


Where we belong

by bluegrass



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Crack, Creature Jaskier | Dandelion, Developing Relationship, Eating your enemies is always an option, Fluff and Angst, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Has Feelings, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia is So Done, Host!Geralt, Jaskier can attac prottec but not shut the fuck up, Moral Ambiguity, Oh no there was only one body, Other, Symbiote!Jaskier, Venom AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:26:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23513863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluegrass/pseuds/bluegrass
Summary: Geralt had many uses for the parasite living inside him. Jaskier could heal bones and regenerate a limbs like it was nothing, could eat the heads of monsters faster than a Witcher could draw his sword; even help Geralt breathe underwater if they so wished.Jaskier was a blessing in disguise if one forgone the constant hunger that came with hosting them. It was not, however, nearly enough to have to sit through the twice-damnedsingingandchatterinside his fucking skull.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 36
Kudos: 142





	1. Searching

Once upon a time, Jaskier’s kind, the Klyntar, believed that the bond between one’s host and them was sacred, beautiful, and something to be respected. It had faded throughout time, the ancient telling from within the unforgiving coldness of the universe. Gone was the want for a bond that defined them, kept them alive, a bond told them who they were and gifted them with gifts that they could use and keep until the end of time.

Their fellow culture of Symbiotes gradually transformed into mindless brutes who wished to do nothing but devour and conquer and move on. In the eyes of the Kluntar mind, hosts were little more than convenient snack bags holding tasty treats to keep them alive while they raved yet another planet to the ground. 

Jaskier had yearned for something solid and real and beautiful after the fourth planet’s destruction. Unlike the others, he’d grown absolutely bored and unsatisfied with the mindless pattern of feast and fight. There was simply so much to understand and know in a self-aware creature. So many memories and feelings to experience together that weren’t death, or hatred, or disgust - almost always accompanied by fear. 

As Jaskier the Klyntar, a child of Knull, the Anti-life, Jaskier was mostly miserable and cold and lonely - all together on many occasions. They detested it. They wanted more - more, more,  _ more.  _

They wanted companionship; art and song and culture, perhaps even love, willingly given. 

They were an outcast amongst their kind for their  _ silly  _ ideals. Rather like another one named Venom… was it? Who shared the longing for perfect symbiosis with their respective hosts. Jaskier hadn’t shared the same squad-mind as them, and it’d be a wistful sort of regret they’d think back on once they arrived in their new world in action of finding the perfect host.

It'd be a thoughtful sort of story they’d tell their host. Ideally underneath the skies for Jaskier thought it quite beautiful when they visited earth number who-knows-what. Their host would soothe them, comfort them, and say that Jaskier would have nothing to feel regret over because they had their host to share their ideals and  _ everything. _

Indeed, Jaskier had broken off from their hive mind for the sole purpose of pursuing something that would make them happy for the first time in their long pointless life. They had a purpose, greater than great, they’d already chosen a frosted falling star to ride after decades of careful planning.

There was another planet like the Earth the Klyntar visited before. Able to grow life until it flourished into society. Jaskier was confident they’d find the host they longed for there. Although they knew they had a poor chance of getting the perfect host on the first try, Jaskier had nothing but time to explore and search along the way.

Jaskier landed on the Continent feeling weaker than they’d ever been before. For a good long while during their trip on the star, Jaskier cursed themself for not considering their hunger when they were alone. How reckless, even though they were terribly excited to rush towards happiness - the note of arrogant confidence almost killed them. Hopefully, Jaskier won’t ever have to starve like that again. 

The star had landed on a coast devoid of human life. Jaskier wasn’t worried when they knew humanoid figures at least existed there - their research had confirmed so. First things first, however, Jaskier tiredly crawled over to the shoreline where a flock of seagulls gathered, fussing over a dead fish. 

They stalked a particularly distracted gull with practiced ease and pounced, seamlessly integrating themself with the instinct-driven thing. Jaskier had their opinions in sharing with animals. They liked that the creatures brought up minimal fuss because the most they remembered was what not to eat, what was okay to eat, mate, move - simple things that Jaskier didn’t need a speck of intelligence to learn quickly. 

It was actually much more convenient compared to hosts with a complex sense for things. The symbiosis Jaskier spared too many days of hunger in replacement of explaining things often resulted in a messy collaboration where Jaskier couldn’t enjoy anything without feeling the bitter taste of fear-chemicals. Or death, because not considering an incompatable host, the stupid hosts that were compatible simply didn’t understand that their relationship was one of mutual benefit. 

Taking over the eyes of the seagull, Jaskier was immediately off into consuming the dead fish that smelled rotten, honestly, and then the rest of the flock - which smelled divine. 

They ate swiftly, gorged themselves on the sweet aftertaste of blood, forgetting to chew at one point as their jaws were large enough to swallow whole, system acidic enough to digest their meal at record speed. It was a messy, bloody, and absolutely uncouth sight. Jaskier was made fun of as a delicate eater even back at their home planet - oh, but that was only because he’d not been drained of energy trying to survive getting here.

The view of the gull was excellent. Jaskier took in the beauty of the coast he’d been set ablombed in, gaze sharp and range just as wide. The sun was beginning to set below a horizon of overlapping waves, the tide rising higher. Jaskier had transitioned from being on their feet to floating idly on the rocking waters. 

Yes, this was what they left Klyntar for, what they shot out of the galaxy and into one of its smaller planets with so little big lands compared to some. Jaskier wasn’t even stopped by a forcefield; he’d not seen anything metal and killingly high-pitched patrolling in the skies.

They’ll rest for now, and later continue to find a human host that could provide them with information on Jaskier’s newfound habitat. Nearby, perhaps a forty minute flight away, they could already hear the cheerfully incautious squealing of - from what Jaskier had learnt over several overtaken planets - humanoid spawn. 

Desolate where they were may be, but where the sea was, life was sure to follow. Intelligent life, life Jaskier could create a  _ bond  _ with. 

Jaskier was rarely wrong with their instinct sharp enough to hear the voice of their god. Obviously, their life was going to be more than excellent. Loneliness was the last thing on their mind when they went to restful slumber for efficient recovery of energy and anything wrong in their avian host’s body. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh god I blame quarantine fully. Leave a Kudos and comment if you liked it anyway. They fuel me!
> 
> (If you like, feel free to follow my witcher sideblog: @wolfandlark. I don't post there much, but it's just... there, for the witcher reblogs and such.)


	2. Chapter 2

Their host, all sleek white feathers and a brightly orange beak Jaskier personally liked, suffered from some minor injuries - several broken feathers and a clogged intestine - Jaskier didn’t need more than a minute to fix awake. Nevertheless, the sleep was useful in the vaguest of senses and the gull’s self was no longer thrashing in from Jaskier’s presence. The instinct to hunt and mate and move remained an evoking urge on the forefront of their mind, but Jaskier was better than picking tiny clams from the sand.

Sand tasted bad. It was gritty and very dead - Jaskier would rather eat the rotting fish from the day before than swallow a mouthful of sand with a meal that wasn’t worth it. 

They took off by the rising light, away from the gentle sound of swishing Jaskier would like to some time sway to with their chosen - perfect - host. The image was appealing in ways that transcended words. They released a dose of adrenaline to make their bird host fly faster on its own without digging too much into the Jaskier’s reserves. 

It’d be bad if they accidentally consumed the gull before making full use of the bird like some newly spawned glutton. It’d be tasty, sure, though not so much once they’d have to change hosts again. 

Jaskier couldn’t wait to arrive by the nearest populace to observe what sort of Continent the Klyntar had discarded their ideas of conquering. Too small, too weak, not enough of a challenge - the new planet had dragons that breathed fire. The new planet was low priority for whatever reason Jaskier didn’t bother to know more on.

They glided through the air as if they’d been flying all their life, making sharp turns and leaving trails of spirals behind the clouds they pierced through. Fun! Fun to feel the whistle of wind shriek past, cold but smooth over their feathers, fun to indulge in a host without a superior to rush them to hurry and kill and eat. 

The only complaint Jaskier would give was that the bird made poor company as it understood Jaskier less than Jaskier could comprehend why the other Symbiotes didn’t want a balanced relationship with their hosts that didn’t result in kill or be killed. 

Jaskier felt _free_ in a way he’d never before.

Their bird host gave a spirited screech as if mirroring Jaskier’s ecstatic mood. 

They settled on a branch of the tree planted within a grand estate built from brick and stone, sturdy material obviously for the rich if the poor state of the village nearby said much for the comparison. The manor was large, and the land it coveted was big enough to host several of the same buildings. 

Jaskier recognised a disparity of powers when he saw it. Society, in its basest level, never changed much. From world to world, whether one’s species was extraterrestrial or otherwise. 

The strong eating the weak as the weak cowered in the presence of the strong was a constant Jaskier actually found some joy in. The familiar cycle soothed any lingering doubt in them, boosted their confidence that even if things didn’t go well, they wouldn’t be completely clueless while jumping from one animal to the next. 

No small amounts of anticipation rose from within Jaskier’s core, throbbing faster than their host’s heartbeat. There was simply so much potential in what they seeked. Preferably, their new host would be compatible enough to accept Jaskier without much fuss, or just dying off the bat. Time was of the essence if Jaskier wanted to ease themself into this new world as soon as possible. 

The gull’s farsighted gaze spotted earthworms swimming underneath the loose soil of the well-maintained gardens, bombarding pulses of hunger pangs. It snapped Jaskier out of their minor reverie, reminding them to hurry before their bird host died from a body emptied of its organs.

Small creatures never lasted long. They weren’t ever as tasty too. 

Well, towards a new host then. 

Playing by his lonesome underneath an arch of rose plants, was a child with the bluest of eyes. He looked awed, so in love with the world around him despite the tall walls that confined him into one space - as pretty as the gardeners may’ve designed it - a cage nevertheless. 

A cage. That won’t do. 

Jaskier abruptly decided they liked this host. Wanted to bond with the young male child with high-pitched giggles and talked to the morning glories like the plants understood him, running about endlessly. 

_This one,_ they thought. This one must have the kind of mind Jaskier loved. Eager, interactive, open. 

They didn’t mind if he was lacking in worldly knowledge due to his age, Jaskier would be happy to share their eidetic memory to learn for the two of them. _We will take care of us,_ Jaskier thought. _We will do anything for **us.** _

The bird Jaskier lived in passed a painless death with a quick chomp of the heart. The process of extraction had always ached a bit, but Jaskier had grown tolerant to the pain aeons ago and they were almost impatient to revert back into a dark blob of their original self. 

They trailed down a stone pillar the tree branch was connected to, creeping into position in steadfast squelches. Leaving no residue and unnoticed by anyone else. They slipped through a bush of thorns, the vibrant colours of its greens a stark contrast against their body. 

The boy was only just out of reach. So close, so close. Jaskier extended a tentacle where his back faced them and finally sank through his clothes, into the core of his being.

Julian Alfred Pankratz was the name of their new host. Lonely, he was lonely like Jaskier. 

They’ll fix it, promise, but slumber must come first. Human hosts needed more time adjusting compared to animals due to how intricately complex their designs were. 

Julian would be afraid as everyone was when they took them inside their bodies and let their voice be known. The boy would be ravenous till it hurt as well. Nothing to worry about; they resolved to be as gentle as possible as long as he survived the first night. 

Confidence simmered warmly in Jaskier when they realised that it was a high probability. Although their compatibility with this host wasn’t perfect, Julian had a high chance of seeing the week to come. _Don’t die -_

**Julian.**

-

Julian’s head perked from where he fiddled with the velvety rose petals. “Yes?” he said, alert to his name. Standing by the door, a maid called him in, announcing the arrival of his third tutor for the day. At the sight of his mother’s rigid posture and cold eyes, he whimpered softly and forgot the strangely warbled voice entirely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh - don't get too attached to Julian? Until chap 3, it will be taken under Jaskier's 'past'. The plan is to have Jaskier meet Geralt from Geralt's POV by the 4th chap. I'm still kind of shaky on my characterizations in this fandom, so do excuse the little experimentation I have with trying to combine Jaskier's personality with the nature of a symbiote.
> 
> (I'm still pretty surprised some of you liked this accursed idea tbh.)
> 
> Stay safe and strong and kind, everyone. Don't forget to leave a Kudos and comment if you enjoyed the chapter! They really make my day :D


	3. Chapter 3

Jaskier had ridden this rodio enough times to understand the necessity of staying hidden. Julian, sweet thing, had unsurprisingly survived the night after breaking out into a fever right before his mother’s cane struck his hand. He had not meant to forget his homework in favour of frolicking with the butterflies, but he did. 

The tutor had complained, his mother’s eyes becoming alight with fury, and Julian was unconscious before he realised. 

In the distance, they could hear the shocked screech of the Lady Pankratz. Frantic footsteps were soon approaching Julian’s sweaty body flushed to the tip of their ears. 

It was possibly the first time Julian experienced his mother’s fabled concern that the servants told him like gospel during bedtime; a poor employee’s excuse to justify inexcusable actions as it wasn’t in their place or power to intervene. At least, that was what Jaskier’s previous intelligent host would have commented. In Jaskier’s personal analysis, the lady drenched in bitterness deserved to be eaten clean from the neck upwards.

She was on their shit-list, anyhow.

It’d save them a lot of misery in the long run. And then afterwards, they’d run away from the fancy estate after raiding the library and eating everything in the pantry - not necessarily in that order. Jaskier hoped this world had chocolate or a semblance of it at least. They ruffled through Julian’s memories sluggishly while spreading themself throughout their physically immature host.

A scar here, a scab there. Nothing Jaskier struggled to fix. They recalled how some of their previous hosts liked to keep their scars and immediately elected to lay off of the scars and scabs for later; they’d wait to ask Julian if he wanted them gone. What else, what else? Julian’s nose was a little crooked, as if it’d healed wrongly because the child couldn’t stay out of trouble long enough for the bone to heal right.

Their host also had many purposely inflicted bruises Jaskier disliked. It strengthened their resolve to eat Julian’s mother. She’d be an alright first meal. They weren’t picky.

Jaskier was honestly the perfect symbiote, living to please.

When Julian woke up, Jaskier naturally took charge of their body and steered them into the chicken coop they knew was attached to the storage room. Julian was confused all the while, mind foggy from sleep still, and Jaskier had cooed and crooned, doing their very best to explain who they were.

**We are Jaskier,** they said. **We are** - _us_ (but that wasn’t quite right) - **your friend.**

Julian was six, a fresh sponge yet to absorb water from the bucket society provides. He was afraid of the monster in his closet, not the imaginary friend who’d seemingly taken on a physical form. He was a wonderful host and -

Oh, bound to die in several years. 

Destiny had determined so, and Jaskier, shackled by Her rules more than usual for they were a visitor, listened. Julian was mysteriously ill and Jaskier conceded to Destiny after trying, and failing, to banish the illness in Julian’s blood. 

It was like mold in the damp corners of a room during summer. 

They felt frustration burn hotly, like molten rocks stirred in lava. 

“I’m Julian!” Jaskier’s precious host said out loud. They were hidden behind bramble as the estate hollered for a Witcher because a monster had possessed the Viscount’s heir (what was a Witcher, Jaskier wondered, because Julian didn't know either). 

Jaskier solidified in front of him, bobbing in motion with the boy’s liveliness. They could feel their smile - the front teeth they’d grown ahead of schedule, the chapped lips they’d smoothened - honest, genuine.

Their hosts were usually less kind to them. They were sure Julian could feel the happy thrum delivered through their bond. 

From the boy, innocent intrigue fluttered like butterfly wings and tickled an indescribably part of them, then realisation, bursting and awed. Jaskier watched (already) fondly as their host waved his hands wildly and stomped his feet excitedly. “You’re talking with no mouth! Eww-- and you’re all gooey! Like water-flour.”

**I am speaking into your mind, Julian. And yes, I suppose I’m quite like if cornstarch and water mixed. Do you like eggs, Julian? We want to eat eggs. An omelette, if the chefs are capable of making it.**

“But I don’t - I’m not?  _ You  _ do! I just ate.”

**We, darling. We. It means I, me. The two of us. To the kitchens, please.**

“Whatever,” Julian shrugged, “Let’s go eat eggs!” His brown hair flopped as he bounced off to get his friend food. The day was plenty great; even though he felt hungry enough to die earlier, Jaksier said it was normal and he made a friend afterwards! He wouldn’t be alone in this too large house ever again. He had someone willing to play with him!

Jaskier would be sad to see their host go. They wrapped themself over Julian’s skinny wrist, purring deeply and relishing in the delighted giggle in response. Julian cannot form perfect symbiosis, no, but he remained their charge, bound to them to take care of. 

It wasn’t what they were looking for; their perfect host likely existed somewhere else Jaskier had to go to, but for now Jaskier figured they could wait. 

Somehow, Jaskier managed to convince Julian to break his loyalties with his family. It took until he was 16 years old, and the abandonment was rather one-sided for the Pankratz had one heir only. 

A win's a win, anyway. They had stolen jewels they’d not seen their mother wear in years before the escape. Jewelry was sellable; and according to the vague audio inputs in Julian’s memories, merchants passed by weekly. Julian was sneaked out once when the household suffered a severe case of flu that staff went short. Weather and protection were the least of Jaskier’s concerns - they needed the money more for food and travel. Education as well; because if Julian wanted to learn poetry and the lute, Jaskier wouldn’t deny them.

Jaskier had hurt when Julian hurt. Had hurt when his mother screamed at catching him in the pantry swallowing an entire duck whole. Hurt when they called in doctors, mages, the entire crew to  _ fix  _ Julian because he talked to himself despite there being no one. 

His host had always been an open book of words to start with. Whatever happened that day, whatever he felt, he told Jaskier even though he knew Jaskier could read his thoughts and memories. A small piece of their host remained each time Jaskier changed hosts. Julian was no different. Looking back, Jaskier just knew they spoke more than the average symbiote. 

Each time Julian hurt, he became susceptible to Jaskier’s wise suggestions. That was how they finally convinced Julian to agree to leave, they supposed. The squeezing ache in their heart was certainly worth it. 

**What shall we do?** they asked, healing the sting on their cheek after the hateful lady locked them out for yet another meaningless punishment. It was winter and blood-freezingly suicidal if one didn’t possess a symbiote to help. Jaskier turned into a thin but warm sheet of ink intended to keep their body warm.  **We can do anything, go anywhere. Eat your mother, father, the noisy servants. Eat anyone that displeases us.**

“Killing innocents is wrong. Mother included,” Julian said, faintly. And Jaskier was rolling in right indignation because the boy could afford to say so only because they censored things considered ‘gory’ to the child’s senses. Traumatised hosts weren’t… pleasant, hosts in love were. In this context, Julian had to simply be  _ happy. _

It should’ve been simple, but things were honestly less simple when Jaksier already had to tiptoe around basic functions such as  _ eating. _

A learned mistake. Too much or too little censorship was clearly detrimental to their relationship.

That, including whatever unrealistic ideals Julian’s squishy tutors taught him, equalled regret. Jaskier groaned, and wrapped themself around Julian’s neck like a fox tail scarf. **That witch’s least innocent of all,** they muttered lowly. 

The woman actually called a Witcher in after all, soon throwing her son to the mountain of a man. Terrible parenting and implications, really. Julian was terrified. “Get rid of the monster,” she said, and a small part of Jaskier was tempted to take the Witcher as a host if he didn’t already have one. Plus, y’know, if he wasn’t staring down Jaskier’s host until he burst into tears. 

Thankfully reasonable, the Witcher left after finding nothing. Their wolf medallion didn’t vibrate in indication of a monster. Eskel, his name was Eskel, at least apologised before leaving and Julian was quite charmed alongside Jaskier. 

**Let us leave the estate, Julian. They cannot cage us here like the cooped chickens. We love your voice, and so will others too. We want to sing, yes? Play for a crowd, learn to play the lute.**

Shivering slightly still, Julian shrugged. He wrapped their arms close to their chest, but Jaskier could feel how their heartbeat quickened with guilty anticipation. 

“I’ll study in Oxenfurt,” their host finally said after a moment of silence save for the chattering of their teeth. “Mother brought me there once - they have a coast, y’know, much cleaner than here without the fishing ports. And Oxenfurt university’s reputation for poetry and music is impeccable.”

**It’s going to be different, Julian,** they warned kindly, though their tone wasn’t at all dissatisfied with Julian’s decision.  **We cannot blind you from the world that’s filled with bloodshed. The weak hate the strong, and not always can I take away the taste of blood on our tongue when we feed.** A pause. Jaskier genuinely distraught when they said next,  **we cannot always afford chocolate with the gems we have. It will not last.**

“How do you know that - have you been in the library again? But I know, dear friend. I know. I can be a bard after I graduate. Get a scholarship before that. As long as you are with me, I am invincible.”

**We, my dear.** The host never relented in addressing them separately and Jaskier masked their disappointment as always, aware of their relationship more like parent and child or friends than  _ one.  _ **But we are invincible together, yes. As long as there isn’t fire or loud sounds.**

“Just the usual then. Do you know the way to Oxenfurt, Jask?”

**Of course. Bring a horse, the white one.** **We like the colour.**

Julian laughed fondly. “You and your obsession with white animals.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, change of plans? I think maybe one more chap with Jaskier. Um, my crack fic is a mess. 
> 
> Anyway, I really hope you gaiz are enjoying this so far! Leave a Kudos and comment if you did. They really make my day! Stay safe and strong, everyone.


End file.
